


Yellow chrysanthemums

by smallblip



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Because I need this:(, Best Friends, Gen, Season 4 Episode 9 Spoilers, a little little bit of jeankasa, mostly mikasa and sasha being bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallblip/pseuds/smallblip
Summary: Her mother used to tell her- "This little gold flower, perfect like the sun. It’s the symbol of our people, of nobility, of beauty-And of grief, of sorrow so great your heart shatters into a million pieces. Like petals so numerous they’re only significant as a whole.""It represents both beauty and grief?" Mikasa had asked.Her mother had shrugged. "That’s just life isn’t it Mikasa, there’s always got to be a bit of both."
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman & Sasha Blouse, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	Yellow chrysanthemums

_Little gold flower._

Her mother used to tell her. This little gold flower, perfect like the sun. It’s the symbol of our people, of nobility, of beauty-

And of grief, of sorrow so great your heart shatters into a million pieces. Like petals so numerous they’re only significant as a whole.

 _It represents both beauty and grief?_ Mikasa had asked.

Her mother had shrugged. _That’s just life isn’t it Mikasa, there’s always got to be a bit of both._

But Mikasa thinks her mother is wrong. There’s nothing beautiful about grief. Nothing beautiful about the endless rows of grey headstones, of the fog that seems to cling to the cemetery, heavy like its own atmosphere. This life leaves much to be desired, but there’s nothing beautiful about death.

Not even when day is breaking and the light catches the dew on the untrimmed grass. Mikasa wonders why the grass is so long. Wonders if death is as unkempt, or if it’s pristine as white walls. She can’t figure out which she’d prefer. And already the day is breaking, and the sun- a little gold flower- tries to tear through the fog.

“Wake up Sasha...”

She says, so quietly it settles atop the fog.

She thinks about the room they share and the turmoil on Sasha’s side- clothes strewn everywhere, sweet wrappers thrown in the mix, her bow and arrow tucked under her bed. Somehow, she manages to navigate her way around the mess. “Mikasa! Can I borrow your shirt? I don’t have a clean one!” Sasha would say. “No.” She would reply, but Sasha would help herself anyway. They would talk about breakfast- it’s the same gruel every day. But somehow thinking up possibilities with Sasha made gruel more bearable.

But today, like most days, Sasha doesn’t stir.

“Wake up Sasha...” Mikasa tries again, a little harsher this time. If they don’t get going soon they’re going to get scolded again. And Mikasa will have to think up some stupid excuse.

No response.

She wipes at her cheeks with the back of her hands. But the tears keep coming. She pulls her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms. Mikasa closes her eyes, wishing for some kind of respite- in what form she isn’t sure. Sleep, perhaps? And when she wakes up, it will be to Sasha’s incessant snoring. _It’s just a dream Mikasa... A bad dream... It isn’t real..._ But it’s so quiet, and Mikasa has never felt more alone. 

“Mikasa?”

It’s Jean, with Connie. Now there are a few loose stalks of carnations beside her little gold flowers.

“I’ll leave you two to it...” she murmurs, there’s no point hiding the fact that she has been crying. Her reddened nose and wet cheeks are testament. It has always been the three of them- Sasha, Connie, Jean. Always. And Mikasa is already on her feet, making space. All of a sudden she feels out of place, a little stone in the shoe, a splinter in the trinity.

“No, stay...” it’s Connie. He offers a little smile and Mikasa stays, hands clasped in front of her. So this is what a person looks like when he loses part of himself.

“I’m sorry Connie... Jean...” Mikasa blurts. It seemed like the right thing to say.

There’s a smile again, this time from both of them.

“I’m sorry too Mikasa...” Connie says. And they sit around the headstone in ritual silence. For a moment it’s the four of them, and Mikasa feels young again. She remembers meeting them for the first time, she would have never expected this back then. Falling in love with people just means the inevitable heartache. This Mikasa knows from experience. And yet she does. Maybe this is what makes life beautiful- its capacity for happiness and sorrow so great it fucking breaks you.

They sit and talk until the sun dips, casting pinks and oranges through the fog. In all its muted glory, Mikasa wants to be selfish, to think this is all for her, to think it’s Sasha’s way of telling her everything is fine.

“Should we get going? It’s getting late...” Connie says. And it’s a wise choice. They all have paperwork to fill in and it’s the beginnings of a terribly long week.

But Mikasa shakes her head, she’ll stay a little longer. Just a little longer. There’s still so much she wants to tell Sasha.

“Hey...” It’s Jean. Jean with a look of resignation that he wears when he grieves.

“Hey...” she replies, smiling at him. She shifts to make space and he takes the cue and sits beside her.

It’s quiet for a while, and Mikasa wants so badly to apologise again. But what would she be apologising for? That they had to go to Marley? That she feels guilty for. The loss they both share? The fact that Mikasa couldn’t save her? The fact that Jean couldn’t save her?

But it’s Jean who breaks the silence first.

“Sasha loved you...” he says with difficulty, like he’s trying his best not to conjure up more memories than he can manage, “she talked about you a lot...”

Mikasa pulls her scarf over her chin, withdrawing further into herself. Maybe it would have been better if she had been shot instead. One moment you’re laughing, and the next there’s crimson and everything fades to darkness. And maybe Sasha would remember the little gold flowers Mikasa told her about and they would appear by her headstone.

“I remember when you two were first announced as roommates... Connie was very convinced you were going to kill Sasha one day in her sleep...” Jean chuckles.

There’s a smile that pulls at Mikasa’s lips, “I did want to kill her...” she tells Jean about the mess in her room, about Sasha’s loud snoring, about the balls of knotted thread when Mikasa had tried to teach her how to sew. And she tells Jean about their secret food stash that Sasha maintains religiously, about the things Sasha had taught her about the forest, about her dream to have a cattle ranch after the war. She leaves out their conversations about the young Marleyan chef, the one who has his eye on Sasha. The one they giggle about in the darkness of their room. She leaves out letting Sasha sleep in her bed when she gets nightmares. And that one time Sasha did the same for her. _It’s just a dream Mikasa... A bad dream... It isn’t real..._ she had said, carding her fingers through Mikasa’s hair more expertly and with more tenderness than Mikasa could ever manage.

“What are we going to do...” Mikasa says, more rhetorical than anything, and the dam breaks. She cries so hard that her lungs scream for air. Jean wraps his arms around her. _It’s okay Mikasa... It’s okay..._ he leans his head against hers and there are tears falling from his cheek to her hair- tears that he would sheepishly apologise for later.

The walk back to their bunks is quiet. And with every step, it gets a little easier to breathe. Mikasa’s hand is in Jean’s, and she feels like a child, spent from crying, happy to be safe and walked home. Except this little thing they have between them happens too often, and she almost prepares herself for Sasha’s teasing later. _Almost._

It’s almost too soon when they arrive at Mikasa’s door and Jean senses her hesitation.

“You don’t have to be alone tonight Mikasa... You can come join Connie and I...” Jean flashes a grin, “we have alcohol...”

Mikasa smiles, squeezing Jean’s hand before letting go. Maybe some other time. She needs this tonight. And Jean understands, “you know where to find me...” he says, pulling her head against his chest. She breathes in deep. He smells of fresh laundry and bergamot. Mikasa snakes her arms around his waist. She knows, she’s looked for him before in the dead of night.

And then she’s alone again. There’s a trail of mess where Sasha has been and Mikasa is careful not to disturb it, as if it has been arranged in some sort of sacred way. She changes, and crawls into Sasha’s bed in anticipation of a nightmare. Too many things have happened in Marley- a potent concoction for bad dreams. The sheets smell like her- a mix of the forest and something sweeter- like lilies.

_It’s just a dream Mikasa... A bad dream... It isn’t real..._

But between the wetness on the pillow and the silence that shrouds the room, reality is stark.

But when Mikasa closes her eyes, she sees a field of chrysanthemums. She’s running through the endless gold fields, feet bare, heart racing.

 _Mikasa keep up!_ She hears somewhere in the distance. It’s Sasha. She’s always been a fast runner.

 _Wait!_ Mikasa shouts after her, there’s a panic that courses through her blood. Sasha is going too far away. She feels small again, a child waiting to be swallowed up by the world. _Sasha wait..._

She’s tired of running after people. Tired of falling in love with people. Tired of hurting. Tired of grief.

 _I’m here... It’s just a bad dream Mikasa..._ she hears from past the field of little gold flowers. It feels so real that Mikasa screws her eyes shut. _Please don’t go..._ and Sasha is there again, lying beside her in the field of chrysanthemums. Sasha is smiling at her, that stupid smile she always has on her face that comes with the promise of something good, something beautiful- like roast beef on a platter, or like a field of little gold flowers, each as perfect as the sun.

_Goodnight Sasha..._

**Author's Note:**

> Mikasa sitting by herself in the cemetery killed me...  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't proof-read this as much as I should!


End file.
